


Gruesome Manscaping

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Casual Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mild Painplay, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Season/Series 01, Scars, Sex, Time Skips, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: Lucifer has an unusual relationship with his wings
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Other(s), Mazikeen/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Kudos: 30





	Gruesome Manscaping

The first time that he had sex without his wings was with Maze. It was only a few hours after their removal, with his skin just barely grown back and still tender. At first Maze avoided his back like the plague, which was a bad turn of phrase, actually, because usually Maze reveled in a good plague.

But she was avoiding his back, and Maze never avoided anything. Even in the midst of a thorough pleasuring, Maze was all too aware of what he had made her do to him. Lucifer redoubled his efforts, finally getting his little demon worked up enough to be careless. He licked and nibbled a trail down her taut abs until he found the place where a playful nip made her slam her hands down on his shoulders.

_That’s more like it!_ he was tempted to say, but that would require stopping his very effective methods. Instead he continued, arching his back slightly in an invitation for more. Within minutes Maze had lost control and dragged her nails across his shoulders.

There was physical pain, of course, though also pleasure from other areas mixing with it. The pain also produced a burst of joy and pride: Lucifer could never go back now; he had made his own choices. That surge was immediately followed by a plummeting feeling that he would deny was regret until his dying day.

As a devil, or perhaps as an angel, Lucifer was a master of multitasking, and as this surge of sensations and emotions whipped through him like a whirlwind he still managed to finish bringing Maze to a screaming orgasm.

She soon flipped him over, and off the bed entirely, in a move he wasn’t entirely sure was the accident she would later claim it had been. As his raw back scraped along the rough slate floor, Lucifer embraced the mixed sensation and allowed Maze to follow through on her threat that she could turn off even his divine brain.

oOo

By the end of the week, his back had stopped bleeding, and Lucifer returned to playing with mortals. Most of his bedroom partners tried to avoid touching his scars, but one or two of the more adventurous ones were willing to engage in a little play in that area. There were also, of course, the ones who wanted nothing more than to “take care of” his wounds, and that was another quite fun game.

As the months passed, the area grew less tender, and frankly Lucifer started to forget about the scars. They didn’t hurt, generally, and many of his partners didn’t even notice them, for one reason or another. Lucifer wasn’t self conscious of them, but if the lights were out, the positions were right, his shirt didn’t completely come off… the scars became a non-issue.

The next time Lucifer actually thought about his scars in more than passing was the night he ran into a bit of an argument outside of Lux on his way in. As he tossed his keys to the valet, he couldn’t help but overhear a girl hissing “no, come on!” from the alley. If there was one thing Lucifer prided himself on, it was that Lux was a safe space for everyone, and _no one_ broke that rule.

He strode down the alley, ready to intervene, but was surprised to find a group of four young ladies together - one being grabbed by the wrist. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

The grabber, one of two Lux regulars that he recognized by sight, smiled when she saw him. “Oh, Mister Morningstar!” she cooed at him.

“Hello lovelies,” he replied. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Gloria here didn’t want to take off her coat,” the other regular explained. “We tried to tell her how hot it gets inside, but she didn’t want to leave it in the car.”

“We were trying to get her to leave it at the front, but she’s still refusing,” added the first.

Lucifer quickly scanned the faces and surface intentions of all four girls without fully employing his powers. “Gloria” was indeed the only one in a coat, though her skirt beneath was skimpy enough. The other three were dressed in typical Lux outfits too, and none seemed intent on deliberately harming their friend.

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” Lucifer said, quickly sliding in to the group, “Why don’t you four lovely ladies accompany me. If Gloria, was it?” he quickly kissed her hand and then locked arms with her, “If Gloria does get hot later, I’ll have someone put her coat in a safe place, alright?”

All four swooned and giggled, and Lucifer was pleased to see that Gloria was not unaffected. She wasn’t here against her will, it seemed, and in the mood to party. He’d get her a little more comfortable and then see if he could unravel this ‘coat’ puzzle. He did always enjoy a puzzle.

A few drinks later and the other three - Amber, Mei, and Bunny - had all been invited to dance, leaving Lucifer and Gloria alone in his booth. He had noticed that she did indeed seem warm, and had fidgeted several times with her sleeves, but that the coat had stayed on. She had also, several times, unconsciously run her left hand over her right bicep, as though checking that it was still covered.

Lucifer had a strong suspicion that he knew what was wrong, at least in general terms, and he decided to test his theory. “What say we move somewhere a little more private, my dear?” he whispered in her ear. Gloria giggled and agreed, and he quickly led her to the elevator.

After making out on the penthouse couch for a while, Lucifer made his move, sliding his hand from her shoulder down her arm, dipping inside the loosened coat. The hint of raised flesh was enough to confirm his suspicions, even as Gloria broke out of her well-kissed daze and jerked away slightly.

“Please-”

Lucifer backed off immediately, but grabbed Gloria’s hand in his own before she could jump away. “I’m sorry, darling; I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said quickly.

“Th- that’s ok,” Gloria stammered. “I- I just-”

“You want to keep your arm covered,” Lucifer finished. Her eyes grew wide, and he let go of her hand so he could undo his cuffs. They’d already unbuttoned his shirt, but he didn’t want the cuffs catching. “How about we make a deal; I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

Gloria was clearly confused, especially when Lucifer scooted back off the couch. He gently retook Gloria’s hand and pulled her to her feet with him. Then he slid his shirt down to his elbows, turning as he did so, to reveal the scars where his wings had been.

Gloria gasped, and Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at her. Her face was impossibly easy to read; he had guessed correctly.

“These are mine,” he offered.

“Your- you- I never…” she stammered. One hand raised a few inches, as though she wanted to reach for him but stopped herself.

“I don’t hide them, per se,” he admitted. “But I also don’t exactly go about in public with my shirt off all the time either.” He nodded at her half-extended hand. “You can touch them if you’d like; they don’t hurt.”

Gloria looked at her own hand as though it was a stranger’s. “Oh my god, I’m one of them.” she murmured.

Lucifer raised a brow and she continued. “I hate when people stare… or t-touch it… or ask how… or…”

“Look at you like you’re a freak?” Lucifer added gently.

Gloria nodded, tearing up. Lucifer quickly dropped his shirt and turned to cup her chin. “Now now, none of that, darling. We’re here to have a good time. I just wanted you to know that you weren’t the only one. In case you wanted to, I dunno, get a little air?”

“I-” Gloria sniffled and then quickly slid her jacket off, letting it drop to the floor.

Lucifer kept his eyes locked with hers, refusing to stare, until she began to squirm slightly. “May I?” he asked gently.

“Oh, oh, yes,” she said, blushing. She half-turned, tilting her arm towards him, and Lucifer accepted the invitation to look.

A maze of red and white scars covered a good handspan of her right arm, sticking out starkly against her brown skin, and Lucifer quickly recognized them as the result of a burn. Not as bad as hellfire burns, but still, the similarity was there.

“My ex,” she said by simple way of explanation, and Lucifer made a mental note to have Maze do a little investigating and punishment.

“My father,” Lucifer offered his own explanation. True, the decision to cut off his wings had been his own, and Maze had done the deed, but his father was the reason that all of that was necessary and the scars had been created at all. It wasn’t exactly untrue.

“Oh,” she gasped a little, but if there was one thing Lucifer had learned, it was that her reaction came from a place of understanding, not pity.

“I usually wear long sleeves, to cover mine,” Gloria explained quickly. “But someone shoved our waiter at dinner and I got covered in spaghetti sauce, so my only option was Bunny’s shirt, but…”

“But no sleeves,” Lucifer said, tweaking the ruffly pink tank’s edge, which was a good two inches above the scars.

“Yeah,” Gloria sighed. “The girls know what happened, of course, but I don’t think they know how bad it still looks. They think I shouldn’t be embarrassed…”

“They don’t understand,” Lucifer gently cut off her babbling. “In my experience people don’t, until it happens to them.”

Gloria nodded a little miserably. “Especially someplace like Lux, where it's all about appearance. Oh, I mean- I didn’t-”

“No offence taken, darling,” Lucifer said, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’s true that most of my patrons are of the superficial, beautiful kind. But, I can tell you that I’ve had more than one guest who looks like us, and, in strictest confidence, two of my bartenders are part of our merry little club.” Not that Maze would ever show her scarred face, but Jeremy was fairly confident about his prosthetic leg.

Gloria seemed very reassured by that, and Lucifer could see the tension easing from her. “Now, it’s ladies’ choice tonight. What would you like to do, darling?”

Their sex that night was slow and gentle, and for every light finger that ran down his back he laid a soft kiss on her arm. 

In the morning, Lucifer made a call to a reconstructive surgeon who owed him a favor. By noon, Maze had returned with an address. And by night, Lucifer had a new partner, with whom his scars didn’t even cross his mind.

oOo

When he decided to give the detective a little show, Lucifer wasn’t even thinking about his scars, but rather about the best way to achieve his goal. Once he started, her baffling resistance to his charms was at the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t until he turned and heard her sharp inhale that he realized his mistake. Still, he tried to bluff past it.

“Now, you can’t argue with that, can you?” he asked smuggly.

But it was clear from her expression that the Detective was not going to be deterred.

She had her worried face on as she asked “What happened to- ? My god, did- ?”

Lucifer decided to go with his usual not-exactly-a-lie and hope that his wonderful chest soon distracted her. “Oh, well yes, I suppose it is his fault.”

“Whose fault?”

“My father.”

“Your dad did that to you?” And there was the pity that usually came from people who weren’t quite horny enough to ignore his back. But, for the first time, Lucifer found, the pity was entirely unacceptable. He made the insane decision to tell her the rest of the story.

“Wha- no, no. That’s where I cut my wings off.”

“What?”

“Well I didn’t - Maze did. I told her to.” Unfortunately, instead of the Detective now scoffing in annoyance at him for claiming to have had wings, she was still intently focused on his back.

She gently turned him, and Lucifer allowed her to manhandle him. “Nnn- no, seriously. What is th-?”

But as her fingers drew closer, Lucifer felt as though electricity was shooting into his shoulder blades. And not the tingly, static-electricity kind, or even the slightly naughty finger-in-a-light-socket kind, but real, high-voltage, painful electricity.

Without even realizing what he was going to do, Lucifer had spun around and grabbed her hand just shy of his skin. The words came out, almost unbidden. “Don’t, please.”

The words came out far more brokenly than anything Lucifer could remember speaking before, and he struggled to shrug them off. He was also baffled by what had just happened. His scars hadn’t hurt in years, and after the first few days he’d never had a problem with people touching them. Why now of all times?

“Okay,” she whispered.

Lucifer decided to make a quick retreat until he could figure out this mystery. “I should get dressed. Otherwise we’ll miss the party.” He released the Detective’s wrist and made what he hoped didn’t look like a retreat back to his closet.

Perhaps this was tied to his mortality stitch; he would need to have Maze do a little research.

oOo

Lucifer should have known better, as he’d always felt a tiny thread connecting him to his wings, even after he’d chopped them off. The heavy lead lining of their secret compartment, and the distance between the docks and Lux was generally enough to mask the feeling entirely. Had the wings actually been there still, he probably could have felt them during his first trip to the docks with the Detective, but with them missing, he hadn’t realized the significance of the location.

Amenadiel’s presence threw off his senses enough that he couldn’t tell the truth at the auction until he touched them, but finally he found his wings again.

He should’ve known that burning them would hurt like bloody murder.

Lucifer kept the pain off of his face with millennia of practice; he refused to give Amenadiel or Father the satisfaction. Then, using the oldest trick in the book, he picked a fight, letting the sharp, momentary pain of Amenadiel’s fists drown out the aching, soul-deep pain of his wings flambeing.

oOo

When his wings reappeared, it was like the fading of an ache he’d forgotten was there. For all that Lucifer had only cut them off five years ago, and burned them almost two years ago, he had forgotten how amazing it felt for them to be back in place.

The next second, he realized that their presence was just a manipulation, and his heart fell. In a dramatic reversal of the night Maze cut them off, now, standing in the blazing desert sun, his wings brought him physical pleasure and personal pain. Unfortunately, he much preferred them the other way ‘round.

Lucifer couldn’t wait to get back to LA and get Maze to cut them off again.

oOo

The final time (for now) that Lucifer cut off his wings, he had started throwing around blase terms for it like “gruesome manscaping” and “shoulder tuneup slash oil change.” And, as the demonic blade sawed through his joint yet again, Lucifer pushed away the surge of pleasure and pain he had once revealed in. Now he saw it as just another manipulation, another confirmation that, even in this, he was forbidden the free will that humans enjoyed. 


End file.
